The wind brushed against my face as I glided back and forth, like floating in the sky. Each swing my legs motioned pushed me forward. I felt higher, no longer a victim. I was finally free. My hands loosely gripped around the rusted chains that creaked softly on each sway. Whilst going backwards I stretched my leg out and the tip of my gum boot brushed along the soft, damp soil, leaving a trail behind. By the next swing however, the mud had receded back into the hole to create a flat surface, as if I was never there. But I have been here, on this swing, many times. This is the only place where I can escape, and feel free.
A sweet smile spread across my lips, remembering the happy days, when I was eight, and had parents. We used to come here, just like today, smile, laugh and swing freely. But now I am alone, forevermore. I don't know how they died, I don't know why because the police wouldn't explain. I stopped motioning my legs and the swing slowly came to a halt. I sat there still and quiet, slightly rocking back and forward, whilst thinking. My hands covered my face, to protect myself, but it was useless. I try to stay strong, but I am continuously pulled down by the constant bullying.
Me, I'm not like other kids. My parents used to say that I'm just special, like them, but that was their job. I hate my skin, its abnormally white and shows up all blemishes. But at school it's worse. The kids laugh at my face and call me a clown. The other weird part is my eyes; they are plain black and go bright red when I am fuming. Some days I wish I could just wear a paper bag over my head or just not leave our home at all. Clothing, that's another subject. You see, I love wearing bright coloured clothing pieces with adorable pictures like puppies. However, since the bullying started I prefer my black cloak, as I can easily hide in its drapes. Inside I feel like I can disappear and escape. At school, I am both pathetic and a victim to their words.
My eyes began to water up, threatening tears. I harshly scrubbed at my face leaving it red and aching. They say that sticks and stones break bones, but the truth is bones heal. The words though, they hurt forever.
My head shot up, in response to hearing a pack of harsh thumping footsteps that are heading my way. My breathing rate increased as I counted down the seconds until they would attack. I quietly stepped off the swing to appear unbreakable, condemning a brick wall. But inside this imaginary brick wall, I was petrified of what was yet to come. I had no chance against their stronger forces; soon I would crumble down. If I suffer the physical pain of being beaten up, I do not know if I'll have the courage to stand again. Slowly, one by one, they came into my vision, all greeting me with their glares of hatred. I don't understand their hatred towards me, and even with their bullying I can't return it. Instead I fear them all.
They all marched over my way, some pushing me to the side, others just punched me in the gut. I just watched as the bruises began to form over the old ones. John, the leader, now stood next to the swing as a grin spread across his chubby, freckled face. His grey eyes had now depth, no soul, they were pure evil. Effortlessly, with one heave he detached the seat from the chains. The seat fell to the ground with a loud bang. Around us startled birds flew off in every direction. I lunged forward to try and protect my swing but two of them came up behind me and tightly grabbed a hold of my arms. My eyes swelled up in tears as I begged them to stop, like a dog. Now I realise that I was only amusing him. John continued to kick the swing to destroy it but as for me, I just watched angrily.
Making every day in my life hell is one thing but destroying the home to my precious memories with my family, is beyond cruel. I could feel the rage surging up inside me. My fingers gripped tightly into my palms, making a fist. The veins on my forehead pounded, about to burst out of my skin. My eyes, no doubt would be sparkling red with anger. With great force, I sharply elbowed the two boys that were holding me down and lunged out to John who was distracted by his destruction.
I pounced on him and grasped his neck with my white fingers. Spreading my lips wide I revealed two sharp pointy teeth. It felt natural as I bit into his flesh and soaked up his blood. The taste on my tongue was wonderful, so sweet and rich, the taste of revenge.
When finished, I licked my lips and my fingers unclenched around John's neck. There was a smash as his corpse dropped to the ground, limp. I grinned. The sound was like a lullaby to my ears.
With one jolt, I twisted my neck around to face the others. Their chins were dropped down to the ground and tears glistened in their eyes. I was no longer the victim, they were threatened by me, just like they always should have been.
I wanted to finish them all off. To make them pay. To gulp up their blood. Their blood;p delicious, sugary from revenge, to sweet, not like my normal feedings from animals. At that moment, I knew that I had disappointed my family, from what I had become. I was no better than them.
I bid farewell to the last two standing with a snake like hiss. Then I retreated into my bat form and fled into the misty blue sky.
That day I managed to summon the courage to leave some children alive but I won't be able to do it again. Animal blood is no longer satisfying to me after I have tasted the human blood of revenge. I have chosen to live isolated, to try and control my natural feeding instincts but once you go bad, you never go back. So find me and you will be sorry.
I am no longer a victim, I am a blood crazed vampire. Beware.
Prince Vlad was the son of the devil
My feet moved rhythmically on the pedals of my bike, as it glided along the footpath. The soft breeze swept past me, as goose bumps slowly rose along my bare, frozen arms. The sun had long since gone down, replaced by the eerie glow from the moon, and the lights from the headlights from both of our bikes. We had to get back home, it wasn’t safe out here anymore.
My ears jerked, as my attention was drawn to the faint sound, of a young girls echo, from a piercing scream. Quickly responding, my feet belted down, harder, faster on the pedals on my bike, away from trouble.
To the side of me a mysterious alleyway advanced, inviting a sinister short cut to my house. I steered my bike left into its dark premises, whilst trying to ignore the fact that my position on a bike made myself extremely vulnerable. Above me, shoe laces knotted, and hung loosely over power lines. Bellow my bikes tires broken beer bottles were harshly scattered along the grounds surface. Ironic, but it was the safest option.
The faint noise, from a slight pop from the direction of my front tyre, drew my attention as I rode over yet, another pile of smashed glass. I could feel the tire flattening, and the great difficulty to force it forward, but there was no way I was stopping here, and continuing on feet.
“Your bike okay,” curiously asked a boyish voice that was trailing me. Stunned, I bounced on my bike seat, as the bike swivelled out of control. I frantically lunged for the for the grips to steer it straight. Calmingly I told myself that "It's just my good mate Mitch."
"Ah, yea," I muttered, when I remembered to reply. We rode on in silence.
"Do you know where you are going?" asked Mitch from behind, breaking me out of my daze. Regaining myself, I looked around. The alley way, was long gone as well as houses and life. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and we were lost.
Unexpectedly, my bike rapidly swung to the ground. Quickly reacting, I went to lung off to safety, but my ankle pulled me back, down with the bike. There was a cracking sound that wasn't the bike, and a scream from pain. I blacked out.
My mind in a daze, heard continuous mumbling of gibberish, that became clearer, and logical as I came back to consciousness. My eyes opened to invite a confusing blurry heap of nothing. Even when I was stable, still there was nothing, except Mitch. He was for some reason at my side, wrapping my leg up with his jumper. The pressure on my leg was like fire at my skin. Then I remembered every last detail. I started to shake and fidget, while trying to escape from the pain from falling and from the memories that will forever haunt me.
Satisfied with his handy first aid, Mitch began to look off into the distance, for help. Following his gaze, I noticed a little black house. "Why didn't I see it before?" I wondered... After I managed to stand, with all my weight on him, we hobbled towards the little black house.
The more distance we covered the larger it grew. It wasn't little or innocent anymore, but Mitch seemed determined to get me there, but I wasn't so sure of it being a good idea.
I looked up and gulped because, before I knew it, in front of me was a solid brick castle. The Big Bad Wolf would seem pathetic trying to blow this mansion down.
The black fence, bordering the castle, stood high, looming over me, with sharp rusted points at the top. There was only one way in, and one way out, through the unwelcoming metal gate. Plastered on the gate was a large V, weighing at least 40kg. The fence, however, was nothing in comparison, in height, to the mansion that it protected. Higher then the sky and ten times the measurements of my school and every part was covered in fine spider webs. I shiver went down my spine, I hate spiders.
My heart rate began to speed up, and I huffed and puffed out loud, as softly as possible. I didn't know what was inside, but I also didn't plan on finding out, however, Mitch had other ideas as he creaked open the gate. He stepped inside and headed towards the Mansions grand entrance. Swiftly, the gate closed with a loud crash, Mitch was on the other side. I grabbed the gate, to pull it back open, but it wouldn't give. But it didn't matter anymore, Mitch was nowhere to be seen.
Startled, but determined, I began surveying the mansion for Mitch. My eyes drew attention to a human figure who was standing at one of the many windows. He had a hunched back, with a tall slender build. He was watching me. The man lifted up one frail hand and swayed it softly, waving, as a wide grin spread across his white, pale face revealing two long pointed teeth at the top of his jaw. While gulping, I realised that he seemed too pleased, to see me.
Maybe he was just lonely. No, definitely crazy I decided.
I got hold of my senses and bolted, leaving Mitch behind. After a few tiring minutes I looked back over my shoulder, the man was gone.
My legs pumped speedily with adrenaline, as I headed in search of our bikes. Once there I grasped Mitch's bike. I was about to hop on when a cold hand gripped around my arm jerking me back. I gulped and shivered. The hand was as cold as ice, but I knew it belonged to the old man. I turned around knowing it was his but was still shocked when my eyes met his face. It was a face that was whiter than paper, with bright red eyes that were focused on my wound. The only movement was the soft twitching, with delight, from the man's nose, as he smelled the rich fragrance of my fresh blood. While still showing his fangs the old man licked his lips, as I just watched while planning an escape. My hand, still clutched to Mitch's bike, flicked the light switch, inviting the globes beam.
The vampire hissed at me and at the light, and then backed away. His skin started to burn as the heat radiated off his skin. The man glared at me, and with a snake like voice, muttered that he was coming back for me. Suddenly there was a puff of smoke, and the vampire disappeared into its fog. As the smoke softened, in the distance I could just make out a bat, gliding away.
The next day, no one believed my story. They just said I was depressed, perhaps delusional about Mitch's death. Mitch's death it was rather strange, the cops said he was badly injured at the pedestrian crossing and didn't have the will to make it. I probably would have believed it too, if I hadn't received a threatening letter today, written in blood, and signed with a wast V. He was coming back, for me.
Prelude - The making of prince Vlad
Prince Vlad was the son of the devil
Prelude - The making of prince Vlad
By Jackie Hutton
The wind brushed against my face as I glided back and forth, like floating in the sky. Each swing my legs motioned pushed me forward. I felt higher, no longer a victim. I was finally free. My hands loosely gripped around the rusted chains that creaked softly on each sway. Whilst going backwards I stretched my leg out and the tip of my gum boot brushed along the soft, damp soil, leaving a trail behind. By the next swing however, the mud had receded back into the hole to create a flat surface, as if I was never there. But I have been here, on this swing, many times. This is the only place where I can escape, and feel free.
A sweet smile spread across my lips, remembering the happy days, when I was eight, and had parents. We used to come here, just like today, smile, laugh and swing freely. But now I am alone, forevermore. I don't know how they died, I don't know why because the police wouldn't explain. I stopped motioning my legs and the swing slowly came to a halt. I sat there still and quiet, slightly rocking back and forward, whilst thinking. My hands covered my face, to protect myself, but it was useless. I try to stay strong, but I am continuously pulled down by the constant bullying.
Me, I'm not like other kids. My parents used to say that I'm just special, like them, but that was their job. I hate my skin, its abnormally white and shows up all blemishes. But at school it's worse. The kids laugh at my face and call me a clown. The other weird part is my eyes; they are plain black and go bright red when I am fuming. Some days I wish I could just wear a paper bag over my head or just not leave our home at all. Clothing, that's another subject. You see, I love wearing bright coloured clothing pieces with adorable pictures like puppies. However, since the bullying started I prefer my black cloak, as I can easily hide in its drapes. Inside I feel like I can disappear and escape. At school, I am both pathetic and a victim to their words.
My eyes began to water up, threatening tears. I harshly scrubbed at my face leaving it red and aching. They say that sticks and stones break bones, but the truth is bones heal. The words though, they hurt forever.
My head shot up, in response to hearing a pack of harsh thumping footsteps that are heading my way. My breathing rate increased as I counted down the seconds until they would attack. I quietly stepped off the swing to appear unbreakable, condemning a brick wall. But inside this imaginary brick wall, I was petrified of what was yet to come. I had no chance against their stronger forces; soon I would crumble down. If I suffer the physical pain of being beaten up, I do not know if I'll have the courage to stand again. Slowly, one by one, they came into my vision, all greeting me with their glares of hatred. I don't understand their hatred towards me, and even with their bullying I can't return it. Instead I fear them all.
They all marched over my way, some pushing me to the side, others just punched me in the gut. I just watched as the bruises began to form over the old ones. John, the leader, now stood next to the swing as a grin spread across his chubby, freckled face. His grey eyes had now depth, no soul, they were pure evil. Effortlessly, with one heave he detached the seat from the chains. The seat fell to the ground with a loud bang. Around us startled birds flew off in every direction. I lunged forward to try and protect my swing but two of them came up behind me and tightly grabbed a hold of my arms. My eyes swelled up in tears as I begged them to stop, like a dog. Now I realise that I was only amusing him. John continued to kick the swing to destroy it but as for me, I just watched angrily.
Making every day in my life hell is one thing but destroying the home to my precious memories with my family, is beyond cruel. I could feel the rage surging up inside me. My fingers gripped tightly into my palms, making a fist. The veins on my forehead pounded, about to burst out of my skin. My eyes, no doubt would be sparkling red with anger. With great force, I sharply elbowed the two boys that were holding me down and lunged out to John who was distracted by his destruction.
I pounced on him and grasped his neck with my white fingers. Spreading my lips wide I revealed two sharp pointy teeth. It felt natural as I bit into his flesh and soaked up his blood. The taste on my tongue was wonderful, so sweet and rich, the taste of revenge.
When finished, I licked my lips and my fingers unclenched around John's neck. There was a smash as his corpse dropped to the ground, limp. I grinned. The sound was like a lullaby to my ears.
With one jolt, I twisted my neck around to face the others. Their chins were dropped down to the ground and tears glistened in their eyes. I was no longer the victim, they were threatened by me, just like they always should have been.
I wanted to finish them all off. To make them pay. To gulp up their blood. Their blood;p delicious, sugary from revenge, to sweet, not like my normal feedings from animals. At that moment, I knew that I had disappointed my family, from what I had become. I was no better than them.
I bid farewell to the last two standing with a snake like hiss. Then I retreated into my bat form and fled into the misty blue sky.
That day I managed to summon the courage to leave some children alive but I won't be able to do it again. Animal blood is no longer satisfying to me after I have tasted the human blood of revenge. I have chosen to live isolated, to try and control my natural feeding instincts but once you go bad, you never go back. So find me and you will be sorry.
I am no longer a victim, I am a blood crazed vampire. Beware.
Prince Vlad was the son of the devil
My feet moved rhythmically on the pedals of my bike, as it glided along the footpath. The soft breeze swept past me, as goose bumps slowly rose along my bare, frozen arms. The sun had long since gone down, replaced by the eerie glow from the moon, and the lights from the headlights from both of our bikes. We had to get back home, it wasn’t safe out here anymore.
My ears jerked, as my attention was drawn to the faint sound, of a young girls echo, from a piercing scream. Quickly responding, my feet belted down, harder, faster on the pedals on my bike, away from trouble.
To the side of me a mysterious alleyway advanced, inviting a sinister short cut to my house. I steered my bike left into its dark premises, whilst trying to ignore the fact that my position on a bike made myself extremely vulnerable. Above me, shoe laces knotted, and hung loosely over power lines. Bellow my bikes tires broken beer bottles were harshly scattered along the grounds surface. Ironic, but it was the safest option.
The faint noise, from a slight pop from the direction of my front tyre, drew my attention as I rode over yet, another pile of smashed glass. I could feel the tire flattening, and the great difficulty to force it forward, but there was no way I was stopping here, and continuing on feet.
“Your bike okay,” curiously asked a boyish voice that was trailing me. Stunned, I bounced on my bike seat, as the bike swivelled out of control. I frantically lunged for the for the grips to steer it straight. Calmingly I told myself that "It's just my good mate Mitch."
"Ah, yea," I muttered, when I remembered to reply. We rode on in silence.
"Do you know where you are going?" asked Mitch from behind, breaking me out of my daze. Regaining myself, I looked around. The alley way, was long gone as well as houses and life. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and we were lost.
Unexpectedly, my bike rapidly swung to the ground. Quickly reacting, I went to lung off to safety, but my ankle pulled me back, down with the bike. There was a cracking sound that wasn't the bike, and a scream from pain. I blacked out.
My mind in a daze, heard continuous mumbling of gibberish, that became clearer, and logical as I came back to consciousness. My eyes opened to invite a confusing blurry heap of nothing. Even when I was stable, still there was nothing, except Mitch. He was for some reason at my side, wrapping my leg up with his jumper. The pressure on my leg was like fire at my skin. Then I remembered every last detail. I started to shake and fidget, while trying to escape from the pain from falling and from the memories that will forever haunt me.
Satisfied with his handy first aid, Mitch began to look off into the distance, for help. Following his gaze, I noticed a little black house. "Why didn't I see it before?" I wondered... After I managed to stand, with all my weight on him, we hobbled towards the little black house.
The more distance we covered the larger it grew. It wasn't little or innocent anymore, but Mitch seemed determined to get me there, but I wasn't so sure of it being a good idea.
I looked up and gulped because, before I knew it, in front of me was a solid brick castle. The Big Bad Wolf would seem pathetic trying to blow this mansion down.
The black fence, bordering the castle, stood high, looming over me, with sharp rusted points at the top. There was only one way in, and one way out, through the unwelcoming metal gate. Plastered on the gate was a large V, weighing at least 40kg. The fence, however, was nothing in comparison, in height, to the mansion that it protected. Higher then the sky and ten times the measurements of my school and every part was covered in fine spider webs. I shiver went down my spine, I hate spiders.
My heart rate began to speed up, and I huffed and puffed out loud, as softly as possible. I didn't know what was inside, but I also didn't plan on finding out, however, Mitch had other ideas as he creaked open the gate. He stepped inside and headed towards the Mansions grand entrance. Swiftly, the gate closed with a loud crash, Mitch was on the other side. I grabbed the gate, to pull it back open, but it wouldn't give. But it didn't matter anymore, Mitch was nowhere to be seen.
Startled, but determined, I began surveying the mansion for Mitch. My eyes drew attention to a human figure who was standing at one of the many windows. He had a hunched back, with a tall slender build. He was watching me. The man lifted up one frail hand and swayed it softly, waving, as a wide grin spread across his white, pale face revealing two long pointed teeth at the top of his jaw. While gulping, I realised that he seemed too pleased, to see me.
Maybe he was just lonely. No, definitely crazy I decided.
I got hold of my senses and bolted, leaving Mitch behind. After a few tiring minutes I looked back over my shoulder, the man was gone.
My legs pumped speedily with adrenaline, as I headed in search of our bikes. Once there I grasped Mitch's bike. I was about to hop on when a cold hand gripped around my arm jerking me back. I gulped and shivered. The hand was as cold as ice, but I knew it belonged to the old man. I turned around knowing it was his but was still shocked when my eyes met his face. It was a face that was whiter than paper, with bright red eyes that were focused on my wound. The only movement was the soft twitching, with delight, from the man's nose, as he smelled the rich fragrance of my fresh blood. While still showing his fangs the old man licked his lips, as I just watched while planning an escape. My hand, still clutched to Mitch's bike, flicked the light switch, inviting the globes beam.
The vampire hissed at me and at the light, and then backed away. His skin started to burn as the heat radiated off his skin. The man glared at me, and with a snake like voice, muttered that he was coming back for me. Suddenly there was a puff of smoke, and the vampire disappeared into its fog. As the smoke softened, in the distance I could just make out a bat, gliding away.
The next day, no one believed my story. They just said I was depressed, perhaps delusional about Mitch's death. Mitch's death it was rather strange, the cops said he was badly injured at the pedestrian crossing and didn't have the will to make it. I probably would have believed it too, if I hadn't received a threatening letter today, written in blood, and signed with a wast V. He was coming back, for me.